


Zekes very bad evening [Commission]

by Norski



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fantrolls, Kinda, Multi, Weight Gain, clive dropped his 6th letter, commission, feederism, its fine, stuckage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 20:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14362821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norski/pseuds/Norski
Summary: Ezekel just wanted to get up, and have breakfast, but no, that isn't in the cards today.





	Zekes very bad evening [Commission]

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for https://overwhelmingsurplusofdiggity.tumblr.com/
> 
> Relial belongs to me (LouseDog)  
> Clive belongs to cwinter6 on tumblrl  
> Ezekel/Zeke belongs to overwhelmingsurplusofdiggity on tumblr
> 
> enjoy this dumbass getting stuck

Ezeker was thankful, despite the initial severity of his quick escape. He’d run from his hive out of fear of punishment for attacking a fuschiablood, a bit of an irrational response all things considered, heiresses died all the time, not that he’d killed her. He’d just injured her, still panic had set in and he’d fled, now he resided in an… unusual hivehold. There were a good handful of recuperacoons, nine in total last he’d counted, the hive spacious and owned by a particularly calm purpleblood.

There was a reason it was so big, though. Every early morning, a few hours before the sun rose, said purpleblood, four other clown trolls, and a rustblood would pile in, pick their recuperacoons and bunk down for the night - sometimes the six of them would even share one. Zeke was more than happy to keep to himself, he pretty much filled one of the recuperacoons by himself anyway, trying to squeeze even the rustblood in with him could cause problems.

The meal before bed was pretty eventful, the clowntrolls squabbling with one another until the pack leader and owner of the hive, Relial, stepped in and silenced them, dishing out their portions of rations and sending them off - chased off with some playful insult or other. Rel usually stuck by Ezeker when he ate - usually encouraging him to eat double the standard ration allowance for a troll his size. It was a struggle, sometimes, not that he was stupid enough to complain about free, extra food. 

It was a little weird (but kind of encouraging) that they’d watch him as he ate, urging him along if he slowed down. He had assumed, at first, this is what they did with every newcomer.

Except it went on for perigees.

Needless to say, Ezekel had gained a little bit of weight, more than he could pass of as a healthy amount of sea blubber.

“C’mon Zeke.” Rel huffed, nudging the plate closer to him. “Not much left, don’t wanna waste it.” There was this weird way they spoke when they wanted him to eat, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.The words seemed just a fraction too drawn out, it broke their usual tone and pacing, that coupled with the way their eyes were fixated on him as he ate, it was easy to tell they were getting more out of it than ensuring their charge was packing down enough nutrients.

It was fine by Zeke, obviously. He’d spent a while getting by on less than barely enough to sustain him, and it wasn’t like he was the only one of the two of them into what went on come meal time, they just seemed to have a silent agreement between the both of them not to bring it up. It worked, he got food, whatever.

Getting into the recuperacoon that morning was fine, he slid in as usual,got comfortable and curled up, barely noticing the six others scrapping over recuperacoons or whether they’d share or not that day, he was pretty used to it. Sleep came easy when he was warm and full, drifting of quickly enough. Sleeping through until evening was a blessing, something he still didn’t take for granted after having been on the run.

Waking up… that was where the problems started. 

Normally he’d grumble and lazily hoist himself out of the recuperacoon he was in, drag himself up to his feet and pad over to the showers to get rid of the slime clinging to his body and between his rolls. That wasn’t how it worked this night though.

He lifted his arms, hands firmly gripping either side of the entrance of the recuperacoon he was in, bracing on his knees to push himself up and through, eventually shifting from his knees to his feet. Usually he’d push and lift himself out - this time though, he hadn’t even managed to straighten his legs fully before he was met with resistance. Furrowing his brow, he pushed up harder, managing to budge a tiny bit further, then nothing. No matter how he pushed, he wasn’t moving. 

So instead, he tried to lower himself back in, maybe try it at a slightly different angle - to no avail. His eyes widened a touch as he realised that he wasn’t budging regardless of which way he tried to move, even turning was a no go. He tried to stay calm and not panic, this wasn’t going to kill him. He grunted a bit as he continued to try and wiggle this way and that, after a good five or so minutes convinced he was just getting himself even more stuck. He was able to keep a rational head on his shoulders through it, up until his ears picked up shuffling noises across the room.

If the situation wasn’t bad enough, the others were waking up. His ears twitched, before laying flat against his head, realizing what this meant. He couldn’t see jack shit without his glasses on, and they were a good few feet out of his range, due to not making a habit of wearing them while he slept and tucking them out of the way so they didn’t get broken if the pack woke up before he did.

At first, nobody seemed to notice, the five clowntrolls tussling as they fought for who was using the showers first. That was all good and well, they all bumbled past him and thought nothing of it, if they even noticed him at all. Letting out a sigh of relief, he allowed himself to relax for a moment, closing his eyes as he tried to calm down again and think. He could do this, surely he wasn’t the first troll to get stuck in a recuperacoon, right? 

“Good evening.”

Zeke’s head snapped up, blurry eyes doing their damndest to try and focus on whoever was in front of him, having to really squint and tilt his head back - realizing he was face to, er, chest, with the rustblood.

“Oh - hi, Clive -”

“This is novel.”

 

Zeke frowned, a little confused, though decided not to question it, guessing it was a height joke. Hilarious, Clive, you are still a shortass. Those black eyes of his were creepy enough to make Zeke not all keen on interacting with him more than needed,especially now.

“You woke up early.” He commented, noting that Clive was dressed and not dripping wet with slime or water.

“I didn’t sleep.” Clive shrugged, a shit eating grin splitting his face slowly. Zeke couldn’t see it but oh boy could he sense it. “Not want to get up then yet, huh?” 

“Um -”

“Not like you to be late for breakfast.”

“Clive-” Zeke stopped, eyes focusing on Clive’s finger, which slowly approached his face. Admittedly he debated biting the damn thing, regretting his decision not to near immediately. Clive pressed his nose, drawing his hand back quickly enough that even if Zeke had wanted to take a chunk out of his hand, he’d not have had time.

“Sing me a song then.”

“What?”

“You know. You look like a billy bass and all-” Clive dodged back with a cackle as Zeke took a swing at him, huffing loudly afterwards, opting for flipping him off instead.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Nah.”

Oh great. How long until the pack and Rel came back? Would they poke just as much fun? Most of Zeke loathed this whole situation, being stuck, having Clive ruthlessly digging into him verbally, though there was one, weird little niggle in the back of his head that he couldn’t shake, or continue to ignore. His ears fluttered some in embarrassment as he came to the realisation that he was, in fact, kind of enjoying this.  
“Don’t you need to, I don’t know,make sure Rel hasn’t throttled the pack?”

“I wouldn’t want to leave you hanging-”

“Don’t do it.”

“- I thought we were getting pretty tight-.”

“You.”

“- so I can’t squeeze another conversation out of you?”

Zeke was about to retort, until it hit him - Clive absolutely witnessed him getting stuck. If he wasn’t already pale grey the ‘color’ would have drained from his face - not long before he turned a bright shade of violet.

He opened his mouth to try bribe Clive to help him and not breathe a word to the others, up until two hyper energetic clown trolls barreled into the room, shoving and pushing at each other, only in boxers, racing to get to the meal block,another two following shortly after, paying no mind to anything other than impending breakfast. Rel, however, was taking their time, strolling through to enjoy their last few moments of peace. Not much went unnoticed for long, eventually their eyes falling on the situation at hand.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Zeke swore he was going to implode on himself, create a black hole and doom the universe from embarrassment the moment Rel was stood beside Clive. The rustblood was smug, entertained even. This was probably the funniest thing he’d seen in wipes. Rel, on the other hand, looked pretty damn startled.

Then guilty. Then incredibly interested. They thought they were being clever, hiding that they weren’t fucking sorry at all, but Zeke knew, he just knew. 

“Everything’s fine.” His high pitched voice gave the game up before he’d even finished talking, Clive just about ready to burst out laughing. Rel pushed the rustblood away, by the face, because fuck you Clive no doubt, before taking in the situation at hand. There was a long silence, only broken once by Clive snorting in the background, before Rel started searching around the entrance of the Recuperacoon. 

“Did uh, did I do this?” Rel murmured as they tried to find the emergency release, having to press up against varying parts of him to find and tug open the latches.

“You know fine well you did this!” He hissed back, only mildly annoyed by the smile Rel probably had slapped across their face. Once the recuperacoon hatch was released, Zeke fell forward and flat on his face unceremoniously, Rel turning away quickly enough to save him at least some decency. 

“So. Breakfast?”


End file.
